Beyond the Rescue
by MickySue
Summary: Starts in Truth or Consequences and goes until Ziva returns to work. For story purposes, I am going to assume that it's a couple of months. Told from Tony and Ziva's point of views. I'd say it's definitely a Tiva fic, but no smut. Rated T for mature themes.
1. The Rescue

This is my first NCIS fanfic... please tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

And of course, I do not own any of the characters or the show...unfortunately.

_**Ziva's Point of View**_

It had been four long months here in Somalia. I had gone into this mission recklessly, knowing that I would die. I knew it was a suicide mission, but my loyalties were being questioned. Did I answer to Mossad, or did I answer to NCIS? If it was before I came to Israel, I would have answered to Gibbs. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone, but I had also thought I trusted Tony and that got me nowhere except for having him kill the one I loved. The one I loved? Did I really love Michael? I wasn't lying when I said I would never know.

But after I was left in Israel, I had no one to trust besides my father. He agreed to send me on this mission, for the greater good. I had no objections. After all, what did I have to live for?

So I went with the group, thinking that I'd be dead within the couple of weeks it took to reach Somalia. I was not expecting to be taken alive and questioned about NCIS. At first I held on to the last bit of loyalty I did hold with NCIS, trying not to tell them anything, willing them to just kill me. I did not reveal any big secrets, but I did tell them a bit about the people I work with, giving them false names and such. It wasn't enough. The torture continued for months.

I had plenty of time to think about things. I thought a lot about my father sending me on such a mission, of how he would not even send a rescue mission for his favorite daughter. I thought about Gibbs leaving me at the tarmac, and how betrayed I felt. He did not betray me though. His loyalty to Tony was stronger. He trusted Tony, and I believe he trusted me, but Gibbs does not stand for trust issues among partners.

I thought about Tony a lot. All about our past. How he did not exactly like me at first, as he was hurting over his lost partner Kate, but our friendship grew. We got closer. Our trust built along with unspoken feelings for one another. I had no doubt in my mind that he was jealous of Michael. Part of me was mad at him for just not being happy for me. I felt as if he was silently saying, "I know I can't have you, but if that's how it's gotta be, no one can." It was infuriating. He was simply trying to block my happiness. So yes, when he killed Michael, I wanted nothing more than to shoot him. But sitting here, in this dark, damp room, I can't help but wish that I could see Tony one more time. Tell him I'm sorry, because I am. When I came home to Mossad, I learned the truth about Rivkin, and I knew that Tony was right. That he was just trying to protect me. But I stayed in Israel because of my damn pride, and because even though I knew then that Tony had been right, I was still violently mad at him.

…

Saleem entered the room. My stomach long ago stopped clenching with fear. I was now incapable of feeling any real emotion. He would do whatever he wanted and I could only have a little hope that he would kill me after. He put a hood on my head, which was normal whenever they moved me from room to room. We walked into a room, and I got a strange feeling that we were not alone, but it wasn't the feeling of Saleem's men that troubled me. It was the feeling of a lack of his men. I knew this when he started speaking in English.

"Questions are being asked in town about missing NCIS agents. Concern that US forces might mobilize. One of you will tell me the identities and locations of all of the operatives in the area and the other will die. I will give you a moment to decide who will live."

A million thoughts raced through my mind in that split second between those words and when my hood got taken off. NCIS agents. There were NCIS agents here! Why? Please don't let it be anyone from my old team. I do not want to be responsible for anyone's death. But I had a sinking feeling in my gut for the first time in months.

The hood got ripped off of my head and all of those emotions that I have been void of came rushing back to me. Sitting in front of me was Tony.

"Oh. How was your summer?" he says. Still making jokes, such a DiNozzo move.

I could just stare at him. "What are you doing here?" I ask, incredulously. "I couldn't live without you, I guess."

"Then you will die with me." I say realizing with a tinge of sadness.

When Tony told me he had an escape plan, I couldn't help but feel just a bit of hope, but it was such a little bit. I am ready to die. There is nothing left for me at home.

"You have 30 seconds to live Saleem." I stare at Tony. What is he talking about? He can only tell the truth, but that cannot be the truth. The bullet comes shooting through the window all of a sudden. McGee jumps up and rushes to Tony, cutting him loose. Then for the first time in months, I am cut loose and they both grab a hold of me and we rush out the door.

To say that I did not feel any amount of relief when I saw Gibbs standing there, and he said the words, "Let's Go Home," would be a lie. I did feel relief, but it wasn't for myself. It was for Tony and for McGee. I did not want them to die because of me.


	2. Fly Away Home

_**Tony's Point Of View**_

We have Ziva. We're rushing out of the compound. There's a truck waiting for us and McGee and I place Ziva in the back. I jump in with her, and McGee gets into the front. Ziva is sitting right next to me, with a blank stare on her face. She has not spoken 1 word since we untied her, and she has not even glanced at me. I place my hand over hers. She does not even flinch. She does not even move. But she does not push my hand away.

Soon we are at an airspace. McGee and I have to practically carry Ziva, as she can barely stand on her own two feet. It's just a cargo plane, but it's the best site I have seen before. There are no real seats, but there is a medic waiting. We set Ziva down so she's sitting on the floor. I sit down next to her.

"Ziva," Gibbs says as he leans down to talk to her. "We are heading home. Do you want to stop in Israel, or are you coming back with us?"

Ziva looks up at Gibbs, but remains silent. Her eyes are blank. I think that she wouldn't care either way. "Boss, Mossad sent her in there. We're not just going to hand her back over to them. She's coming home with us." I state. Ziva doesn't even blink. Gibbs stares at her for another second, and tells the pilot to head home. The medic comes over to Ziva with a syringe. For once, something flashes behind her eyes. "What is that?" she asks angrily.

"A sedative, ma'am." Says the medic. "We think it would be best for you to get some rest."

Ziva shakes her head. "I do not need a sedative."

The medic looks a bit taken aback. He obviously had his orders from someone (probably Gibbs). "Okay, but I need to hook up some IVs. One with saline to hydrate you, and one pack full of nutrients. That should strengthen you up some."

Ziva shakes her head again. "I do not need any of that."

I look at her, my turn to look incredulous. "Ziva," I start to say.

"No Tony. I do not want any of that."

"You can barely stand on your own two feet Ziva. It's either that, or you can expect me to be carrying you around for a bit. Choose your poison."

"Fine!" she snaps. "Make it quick."

The medic gets down on his knees and starts hooking up the IVs to her. He pulls out a needle and Ziva flinches. She puts her arms up to stop him.

"Ziva," I say, lightly touching her hand. She opens her eyes and they lock with mine. "Ziva, he's not going to hurt you. Just let him do this." I wrap my fingers with hers and pull her arm away from the IV site. The medic hurries up with the needle. Ziva shuts her eyes, and her hand clenches around mine. Soon they are in.

Ziva lets go of my hand. We take off into the air. I stare at Ziva, knowing for the first time, that she's safe. She's alive and she's safe. She glances at me, her eyes void of emotion again. She leans her head back, and closes her eyes. They keep blinking open every few moments though, as if she's afraid that this is just a dream. The turbulence starts and without thought, I put my arm over her shoulders. My intention was just to keep her head from hitting the wall behind her. She tensed up instantly, but I did not remove my arm. It took her almost a minute, but she slowly started relaxing. Slowly her eyes drifted shut. I shifted a little bit, allowing her head to fall against my shoulder. Her body tensed, but her eyes did not open again. Soon, I believe, she was fast asleep.

I'd be lying if I said I was able to rest at all. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was alive. I just couldn't believe it. I was not expecting to see her alive. I was positive that she had died, and all I wanted to do was kill Saleem. I was not expecting for her to be there. I was not expecting to walk out of there with her in my arms. In fact, part of me was not expecting to walk out of there at all.

Now she was asleep in my arms. I knew it was going to be hard to get back to a point in our relationship like we were at before, but I know in this moment, I never want to let her out of my arms ever again.

…..

The flight back from Somalia would take approximately 16 hours. About 8 hours in, they had to change her IV, and that caused her to stir. It was as if someone had doused her in gasoline. She bolted upright, her eyes wild. She took in her surroundings before leaning back again and letting the medic change her IVs. After the medic left, Ziva was still sitting there, unmoving, with wide eyes. She seemed to be trying to clear her mind. Finally after about 5 minutes, she turned to look at me.

Her eyes seemed to search my face for what felt like forever. I couldn't smile, could barely move a muscle in my face. I was afraid if I said anything, she'd leap out of my arms. After a bit, I tentatively moved my hand towards her face. I did it slowly, as to not scare her. My hand touched her face gently. I just needed to feel her face. "You're getting a tiny bit of color back already," I whisper. She pulls back slowly, again, not saying anything. I lean my back against the wall again, and raise my arm up, giving her the option of sitting up on her own, or leaning against me again. I sighed a sigh of relief when she slowly rested her head back against my shoulder, but she did turn her head away from mine and closed her eyes again.

"We're landing DiNozzo," Gibbs stated 8 hours later as he took a seat across from us.

I glanced over at Ziva. I really didn't want to wake her. Over the last half of the flight, she's regained even just a bit more color, but she still looks like she went through hell. "Ziva," I whisper, as I lightly touch her face. "Ziva, wake up." She does in a flash, grabbing my hand in an iron grip and shoving it towards me, hard.

"Whoa," I exclaim, surprised at her strength.

She has that wild look in her eyes again. "We're landing," I state.

Once landed, I stand up, and reach out to help her stand. "I got it." She says and helps herself up. "I think I'm a little bit stronger now."

I rub my aching hand. She sure is a bit stronger. As we walk out, I try to put my hand on her back, for support, but she stops and gives me a "Don't you dare touch me look." I've seen this look before, when she's been angry at me. But this time, there seemed to be no anger, just fear attached to it. I couldn't help but think maybe she was a bit afraid of me. But more likely, she's just afraid of everything at the moment.

Ziva does not say another word as we enter NCIS headquarters. We entered the elevator silently.

"Just another day at the office," I joked.

Ding.

The elevator arrives on our floor, and we all look at Gibbs, as he exits first.

Ziva looks completely unsure about this, but she follows Gibbs out. Abby of course gets to her first, and hugs her. I sit down at my seat, watching. Ziva stares off into space while Abby hugs her, not blinking, not really displaying any emotion on her face. She looks so… sad, no, that's not the word. She looks so… empty.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Please let me know what you think. It will motivate me to write more!_


	3. Always Alone

_**Ziva's Point of View**_

It was strange to be standing in the NCIS building. After Gibbs left me in Israel, I had no intention of ever returning. After I got captured, for the first few days, I wanted nothing more than to be here, where I had felt the safest. But after so long, that want disappeared along with every want, except for the want to die.

After Abby got done hugging me, Ducky had to have his turn. After that, I just stood there. I did not know what I should be doing at the moment. I did not know where I was going to go. I did not know anything now, except that all I wanted was to die, and yet, here I was thrown back into a life that I no longer deserved.

After everyone went to sit down, Tony walked back over to me.

"Ziva," he says gently. "Do you still have your apartment here in DC?"

I shake my head. I had made arrangements for all of my things to be shipped home to Israel. McGee comes over. "You could stay with me," he suggests. I shake my head. "I do not wish to trouble anyone more than I already have."

Tony nods. "I've made arrangements at a hotel for you. You can have all the privacy you need, and we'll be a phone call away."

Good. I was afraid he was going to insist I stay with him. But I do not think that would be good for any of us. "I'll drive you. Would you like to go now, or would you like to talk to anyone else?"

"Now," I mumbled. I spent so much time wanting to be back here, but right now all I wanted was to get out of this place as soon as possible.

We drive in silence. I want to say thank you to Tony, and I also want to say sorry, but I mostly just want to sleep some more.

Tony opens up the door and we walk in. The room's a nice one, with a mini kitchen bar and a queen sized bed. "The room's under Abby's name. The room is paid for the whole month. There's some food in the cupboards and fridge. It's not much, but if you need anything or want anything, just call." He sets down what looks like a disposable cell phone. "Abby also brought by some of her clothes that she thought might fit you… they're in the closet. We'll try to get some of your things back from Israel if you want.

Again, I just nod. I just want to sleep.

"I'm guessing you want a shower." He says, not suggestively, just making a statement.

"I would just like to sleep Tony," I say, maybe a bit too rudely.

He nods his head. I crawl into the bed, with my dirty clothes still on.

Tony goes to sit down on the chair.

"No," I say, "please leave. I am certain you have work you could be doing. You do not need to waste any more time on me."

"Ziva…" he starts to say, about to protest.

"No," I say again. "Just go. Please."

He nods. "The door key is on the table. I have one too. I'll go and get some clean bedding for you, for whenever you do want to shower, and then I'll leave.

I just close my eyes and pull the covers over my head.

I hear Tony open the door. When he comes back, I pretend I'm already sleeping. He sets the bedding on the chair by the bed. His hand gently touches my forehead. "I'm really glad you're alive…" he states and goes to leave. I wait until I hear the latch click on the door, and then I'm fast asleep once more.

I do not know how long I was asleep for. In fact, I have no idea what time it was when we arrived here at the hotel. But the clock reads 7PM, and I have a feeling I had been asleep for at least 12 hours.

I stand up, looking at the bed. I really do just want to sleep more, but I see the dirt that's on my sheets thanks to me, and I get a sudden urge to bathe. I stand in the shower for what seems like an eternity. Finally I wash my body and hair. I feel clean. I do not feel anything else.

I change the bedding, and crawl back into the bed, shutting my eyes once more.

I wake up to noises of food sizzling over a stove. For a minute I think I am a child once again, waking up to my Abba making breakfast, but this is reality. I open my eyes and see Tony in the kitchen. I just stare at him, while he's cooking. I stare at his muscular body. I stare at the back of his head. I think to myself of how this is the man who came and rescued me from months of torture, even though I had told him I wished him dead the last time I saw him. I stare at him, and a feeling of safety washes over me. As soon as I feel it though, I brush it off. I have no room for feelings anymore.

Tony glances over at me, sees I'm awake, but doesn't say anything. DiNozzo silent is something for the record books, but I can tell that he is trying hard to give me my space.

He sets 2 plates down on the table, and motions for me to come and eat. I slowly get out of bed, wobbly once more. Those nutrients and saline in those IVs helped, but it must have been at least 24 hours since that.

Tony sets down a glass of water, and I down it without thinking. He gets up and fills it again.

"Thank you, Tony." I say as he hands my glass back to me.

He just nods. "I'm sorry to have just snuck in here, but I didn't want to wake you yet. I thought you might have not eaten anything though. I know it's not the most nutritious, but I'm not really that great of a chef." I look at the table. There is what looks like a grilled ham and cheese sandwich, and a bowl of soup. For the first time in months, my appetite comes soaring back.

"It looks… wonderful." I say, honestly, as I dive right into eating it.

"Nice jammies," Tony says with a smirk on his face. I try to lift my mouth in a smile, but it seems like too much work. "Abby's." I say.

Tony cleans up the dishes and I crawl back into the warm bed.

"Want to watch some tv," he asks. He doesn't wait for an answer. The answer wasn't coming anyways. He turns on the tv and settles into the chair.

"Ah, perfect. This is a great movie. Matthew McConaughey stars as an adult who's obviously too afraid to leave his parent's house and start his own life." I roll my eyes at him, and then close them. I am not in the mood for a movie. I am not in the mood for anything.

Next thing I know, Tony is touching my forehead. "Ziva, it's morning. I need to go to work. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

"I have been alone for four months Tony, I can be alone for a day."

"You're not alone anymore Ziva." He says softly as he walks out the door.

"I'm always alone," I whisper as I drift back to sleep.

* * *

_Author's Note: So, does this seem realistic so far? I'm trying to keep them in their character, but I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job at that._


	4. Without You

_**Tony's Point of View**_

Being at work, knowing Ziva was alive but not working alongside us made work almost intolerable. Agent Fillmore, who was Ziva's replacement, was no fun at all. Not only was she too serious, but she did not attempt to make any connection whatsoever between anyone on the squad. It probably didn't help that we all seemed to brush her off, as we knew (or maybe just hoped) that she wouldn't last much longer.

But for now, we had to put up with her. She was a decent agent, and we needed the backup out in the field.

I went to check up on Ziva about once a day. She never said much at all, and after about 2 weeks and a half, I walked in to find her not sleeping like all the other times. She was making a bowl of cereal. "I'm glad to see you up and about," I say.

"I think I have slept more in the past …um, since I have been back, than I have in my whole life." She sits down at the table. "How long have I been back anyway?" she asks in a small voice.

"Almost 3 weeks," I say. Ziva nods. I sit down next to her.

"Do you want to go outside today, maybe go for a walk? Get some sun." I ask, hopeful.

Ziva doesn't even look at me. "I do plan on going out today. But I wish to go alone."

"Oh. Okay, what all do you plan on doing?" I ask, surprised, not really happy with the idea of her being out on her own yet.

"I am going to see if I there is an apartment available at my old apartment complex. I liked that place." She says simply.

"Well, could you please bring McGee or even Abby with you at least. I don't think you should go somewhere by yourself yet."

Her eyes flash angrily at me. "And I think it is not your business. Unless you too, wish to hold me a prisoner."

I sigh. "Of course not. I'm just… worried about you. I'm sorry. Will you at least bring the cell I gave you?"

Ziva nods after a moment. "Okay."

I get up to leave, "Be careful!" I say as I walk out the door quickly. I'm not really in the mood for her being mad at me. I just want her safe.

* * *

We were all working late on a case that involved 2 missing petty officers. It was getting late. The clock read 8 PM, and I hadn't heard anything from Ziva since I left this morning. I've tried calling her a few times, but there's no answer.

"Here's my report on that arrest we made today," Agent Fillmore said, as she laid a packet of paper onto my desk. I don't bother looking up at her. "Is everyone just going to ignore me forever?" she asks. "I'm sorry," I say automatically, not really meaning it. "It's not you." And that's the truth.

"It's your ex-partner, that Ziva girl, right? I heard that you guys went and brought her back from some terrorist camp or something not too long ago. I bet she's pretty messed up in the head. If that was me, I don't think that I would ever…"

"But it's not you!" I cut in, angrily. "You know nothing about her. You know nothing about what she's been through, and you especially have no idea about the amount of strength she has in her. So don't, for one second, compare yourself to her." I stare at her with steely eyes, angry that she had the nerve to talk about Ziva.

"She's going to be just fine," I add, saying it with more confidence than I have.

Agent Fillmore doesn't back off. "You're in love with her, aren't you?" she says, sounding like she's enjoying herself. I can't help myself.

"And you're in love with the sound of your own voice!" I get up, grab my bag, and head for the elevator.

On the drive home, I try to call Ziva one more time, but it just keeps ringing. Soon after I angrily throw the phone back on the passenger seat, I hear it beep. There's a text message from her.

_"I am fine. Going to sleep. Please stop calling."_

Lying in bed that night, I couldn't help but toss and turn. I didn't even want to imagine what could have happened to her while being held hostage. My stomach cringes, just knowing that she was there and alive all of that time, and I was sitting at home, trying to move on. I should have known. I should have sensed that she was still alive. But no, it took me months to even get the nerve to tell Gibbs we had to stop Saleem. What if I had never decided vengeance was what I wanted? Ziva would probably still be getting tortured right about now.

She's been through a lot in her life, and each time she has overcome it. She will be able to overcome this one too. At least, I hope so. I need my partner back.

The next week, I did not see Ziva much. She called to say she was moving back into her old place, which had just finished being remodeled after the explosion. It took a bit of convincing but she was able to get her landlord to let her back in. I helped bring over the food and clothes to her place, and offered to take her shopping, but she wanted to go alone.

After that, she would only answer her phone to tell me she was fine, and then she would hang up. She was definitely avoiding me.


	5. Ready to Live

**Ziva's Point of View**

I have been back in my old apartment for a week now. I have not bought any furniture except for a bed, where I tend to spend most of my time. I try to eat and sleep at normal times, but some days I forget to eat, and some days I sleep way longer than I should. Some days I can't sleep at all. Yesterday I went out and got a small tv from a pawn shop, but after trying to find something on it to watch, I realized that most of it upset me in some form or another. I did not want to be upset. I simply wish not to feel anything again. Emotions have simply gotten me into trouble before. I make a silent vow to not feel anything anymore.

Knock, knock, knock.

I jump, startled. Who would be at my door at this time of night? I glance over at the clock and am mildly surprised that it only reads 6PM. It is still quite early.

I peek through the door first, and my heart skips a beat when I realize it's Tony.

"Ziva, it's me, can I come in please?"

I put my head down on the door. I am not ready to face him yet. I am not ready to admit that I was wrong, or to admit that I am the reason he put himself in danger. I almost killed him more than once now.

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

"Ziva!"

"Leave me alone, Tony," I say softly.

I can hear him sigh, and then, "Please Ziva, just open the damn door."

Hesitantly, I open the door. I owe him my life, and although at the moment I could care less about it, he still deserves more than me ignoring him.

I open the door and step aside. He walks in, surveying the room. "I like what you've done to the place," he says with a smile. He's clearly joking, as there is absolutely nothing in the main areas of the apartment, except for 2 stools by the counter. I go sit at one now.

"What do you want?" I ask him, trying not to sound too rude.

He looks at me questioningly. "Have you eaten today?"

I shake my head no. "I have not been hungry."

"Well, how about we order some pizza and watch a movie? I brought my computer. It's got a small screen but it'll do."

I sigh. It's not going to be easy to get him to go away this time, and I owe him enough to not kick him out just because he's trying to be nice. I nod once. "Order the pizza then. I'm going to go wash up a bit." I've been trying to shower daily now, but I have not in over a day, and I tend to sweat when I have nightmares, which it seems I get every time I close my eyes.

I take my time in the shower, avoiding facing Tony even more. I am not ready to talk about anything. I am not ready to apologize quite yet. I am just not ready to face anything, but I know he just needs some reassurance that I am here, and he deserves to get that much at least.

When I come out of the bathroom, Tony is sitting on the floor against the wall. He's got his computer set up on the floor in front of him, and the pizza is already here too.

Tony pats the floor next to him. "Ready?" He reaches into a dvd case and pops in a movie. Some corny pop type of music starts to play. "Wait, this isn't The Sound of Music…" The title 'Mean Girls' pops up on the screen. "I must have grabbed the wrong case… this is definitely not the one I rented." He looks over at me expecting some type of response, but not getting one, just says, "To hell with it." He leans in and presses play again.

I close my eyes, not really wanting to watch something that just will upset me. However, the cheesy music and low-key drama soon had my attention.

..…..

"But I do not understand. Why can they only wear pink?" I say, perplexed at what I was seeing on the screen.

"Because Ziva, it's about appearance and acceptance. Come on, there had to be some girls like this at your school growing up."

"I attended a private school, kind of a school for children of Mossad agents, and the only sticks that there were, were those that were quick with a knife, or those that were quick with a gun."

"Cliques, not sticks," but he smiles as he corrects me.

I raise my eyebrow at him. "But I can guess that you were one of those jack type guys, am I right?"

"Jock type guys, Ziva, jock, not Jack." He laughs hard, and I can't help but enjoy his laughter. It's been too long since we've had a conversation that wasn't hard to handle.

His laugh is infectious and I can't help but giggle a bit. I try to stifle it right away. It feels strange to laugh, and it almost physically hurts.

"Hey," Tony says lightly and places his hand on mine. I flinch and pull my hand away.

"Sorry," he says lightly.

I shake my head. "It is not you." I state simply. He nods. I believe I do not need to exaggerate any more than that. I'm sure he can come up with many reasons why one would not like to be touched after being held prisoner and tortured for months.

He reaches over again and lightly taps my chin, making it so I look up at him. I try to clear my face of all emotion. "Ziva, no one is going to think any less of you if you're not as emotionally strong as you were before. You've been through a lot."

I look away. Tony continues. "We don't expect you to just snap back into the groove of things or even expect you to want to talk about everything, but you need to stop punishing yourself even more. It's okay if you find yourself smiling, or laughing. It doesn't mean that nothing happened. It just means you're living again."

"I… I was ready to die, Tony." And I still am, I think to myself.

"And you still are," Tony says, as if reading my thoughts. "But you don't have to be Ziva. I know you went through hell. I know you were ready to die, but you didn't. You're home now. You're alive, and you're not going to die. You need to start thinking that instead of what you're thinking now. I know you're not ready to come back to work. Well, actually, I'm not sure if you even plan on coming back to work with us…" his words drift off.

"I do not know either. I think I want to, someday, yes, but I do not think I deserve such a privilege."

"See, you're thinking like that again. I want you to take that off your shoulder. You do deserve to. You might not be ready yet, but if that's what you want, then you need to start thinking about returning again. That will give you something to strive for."

I nod. I don't know what I think of all of this. He makes sense, but I don't want it to make sense at the moment. "Watch the movie, Tony."

Tony does not say much at all the rest of the night. When the movie ends, I walk him to the door. "Remember what I said, Ziva. It's the truth." He leans in to what appears to be a hug. I stiffen, but I let him hug me. I don't return the hug. "Good night, Tony."

I fall asleep not even 10 minutes after Tony left, and for once, I do not remember having a nightmare. I almost feel rested when I wake up. Tony's words were still ringing in my ears. Maybe I do need to just go and try to get back into the swing of things. Shouldn't other things snap into place then? I might as well make an attempt to go talk to Gibbs. Maybe he doesn't even want me back on the team anyway.

I get up and for the first time since I've gotten back, put on normal clothes. I've been living in my sweatpants and my pajamas.

It takes me longer than it ever has before, but I manage to fix my hair up, and on a second thought, I even dab a bit of make-up on. I stare at myself in the mirror. I almost look like my old-self. My eyes say more, and I know this. I've always been good at putting on a strong face, but I have always been bad at making my eyes stop talking.

Today will be the day that I take the first step back into the real world.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**_So, I have at least one more chapter to write. Should I post it? Are you guys still with me on this one? What do you think of it so far?_


	6. Moving Forward

_**Tony's Point of View**_

_I see Ziva, strapped down to a chair. She's got more than one bruise on her face, and there's blood gushing out of her nose. Saleem comes over to her, grabbing her by the hair. "Tell me everything!" he says, but Ziva sits as stony-faced as ever. She does not speak, and so Saleem starts to hit her over and over again…_

"NO!" I scream, sitting straight up, sweat dripping off of my forehead. It was just a dream, but it felt so real. "Oh Ziva, how could I not have known?" I whisper to the dark air, as I lay back down. If only I hadn't shot Michael, she would have never taken his place on the Damocles. I wish I would have let Michael kill me. It would have been better for Ziva that way.

The nightmares have haunted me like that since the first night we all returned home. I can't help but feel guilty for everything that she went through. Of course, at work, I can't let any of that show.

Agent Fillmore seems to dislike working with us more every day. "McGee," I say, getting up from my desk and heading towards his. He looks up at me, "Have you heard from Ziva lately?" McGee shakes his head. We start talking in hushed tones about Ziva, and I feel Agent Fillmore's eyes on us. "This conversation is confidential," I snap at her. After the conversation we had last time about Ziva, I have been cold to her. I know this, but I just can't bring myself to care.

"Here," Agent Fillmore says as she shoves a huge wad of papers onto McGee's desk. "It's my resignation." She throws in some insults about how I'm immature and about how McGee's my sidekick, but all I feel is relief that she'll be leaving. Not only do I not have to deal with her anymore, but that means that we'll have an empty desk. There's no way I'm choosing anyone else for that desk, at least not until Ziva states that she's not coming back for certain.

Later in the day, we were deep into work on a triple homicide where three men who were throwing a fake bachelor party were murdered. McGee and I were deep into conversation, arguing about how he's the less-handsome agent, and my faithful sidekick, when the elevator dinged open and I heard her voice. "Actually, I find McGee to be the more handsome, nothing personal." Her words barely registered with me. I was just beyond surprised to see her here in the NCIS building.

She looks amazing. I've seen her dressed up before, wearing sexy clothes even, but now, when she's just wearing a normal work suit, I've never thought she's looked more beautiful. Last time I saw her, she still was quite a mess. Now she stands in front of me, looking like she didn't travel through hell and back.

"Hi." I say, "So what are you doing here?" My insides were turning in fear that she might be here to officially tell Gibbs that she is not coming back.

"David, with me." Director Vance calls out. "Well that answers that question," I say, even though that doesn't answer anything. "I have to go," Ziva says, trying to smile, but her smile doesn't quite cover up her nervousness.

I hadn't gotten around to asking Gibbs if Ziva had resigned. I figured I'd hear sooner or later, and I'd rather just hold on to the belief that she might be coming back eventually. I didn't have too much time to dwell on it though, as we got deeper into this case.

McGee and I were brainstorming ideas about how we could track someone down when I heard her voice. "You could try to recreate your victim's daily route by using his cell's GPS history and then see if there were any other cell phones consistently in the same area, and if so…"

"We'd have his tail." I finish for her.

I know I'm giving her a weird look, but I really don't care. I'm just so thankful to see her out and about and in the NCIS building. I hope this means she's coming back. As McGee makes some lame exit excuse (thank you McObvious), Ziva can't seem to meet my eyes. She's obviously unsure about being here still.

When she does meet my eye, so much passes between us. It's obvious that she has much more to say to me. I need to find out if she's coming back.

"Taking the tour?" I joke.

"I have my first psych evaluation."

Oomph, I feel bad for whoever has to analyze her thoughts after all that has happened to her. I smile wide though. If she's taking psych evaluations, then that means she's trying to come back to work. Back to work!

"Oh yeah, I always love those." Why can't I say something serious, instead of making nervous jokes?

"I'm sure. You get to talk about yourself, the entire time."

I can take Ziva making jokes at my expense. In fact, I kind of like it. We used to have healthy banter all the time, and her saying that almost makes it feel as if we're just working on some case, talking. But her face falls instantly and she apologizes quickly. Clearly, we're far from being back to where we once were. I reassure her right away, trying to make some joke about how she doesn't have tact, but when she doesn't smile and something flashes in her eyes (guilt maybe), I apologize instantly myself. There I go again, messing up situations.

My phone rings, and thankful for the interruption, I answer. I'm not so thankful when Abby responds by wanting to talk to Ziva, and convincing her to come down to her lab now. I wasn't quite done speaking with her yet, and I'm afraid that if she leaves now, we'll never get the chance to say what either one of us so clearly wants to say.

"I will um, see you later." Ziva says, making it sound so definite, like she's saying we'll finish this conversation later.

"I will be right here," I reassure her once more.

Part of me doesn't even care if we talk about anything that has happened. I would gladly just go back to normal if I could, being completely happy that Ziva is just sound and safe.

After spending almost a day tied-up in the desert, and having my mouth feel like sandpaper because of the dryness, I have been drinking non-stop for the past couple of months, at least it seems, and so I am thankful when I get the moment to relieve myself. I can't help but sing the only Hebrew song I know as I go. It's a catchy tune, and it's been stuck in my head for a few weeks now. When I get to the fun part of the song though, I catch someone with the corner of my eye, and I know instantly who it is. Only my Mossad Ninja could come into the bathroom undetected.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see that you are well hydrated after your time in the desert."

"Thinking of surprising me?" I say, as I zip myself back up and head for the sink. We are alone in the bathroom. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and tell her that I'm never letting go, but I know that wouldn't be the right move at the moment. Her eyes say she has so much to tell me, even though she tells me, "I did not know what to say."

"Are you sure it had to be said in the Men's room?"

"I'm sure it had to be said."

Oh man, here we go.

She starts off by telling me that she almost killed me where I stood when she found that I had shot Michael. I wish I could tell her that I wish she had, but instead, I make a comment about how I wasn't standing. I grip the counter hard as she continues on about the events that night, and how I clearly screwed up.

But then she catches herself, shakes her head. I know she didn't come here to just criticize my actions, at least I hope not. "But that does not matter. Just like it does not matter how it worked out for Michael.

Wait, did she just admit in a roundabout way, that even though I killed Michael, it doesn't matter anymore?

"So what does?"

She puts her hand down between mine on the counter and scoots so she's almost in front of me, but not quite touching me. She looks up at me, with eyes that say she's almost afraid to admit it still. "That you had my back. That you have always had my back, and that I was wrong to question your motives."

Even though I feel as if I should have let Michael kill me, or I should have done something different, I am glad that she's no longer questioning that what I did was for her, but I still am a bit bitter about the fact that she didn't trust me in the first place. "So why didn't you?"

I'm surprised by her answer, as she has never really been this open with me before. "I trusted my brother, Ari. I trusted Michael. I could not afford to trust you." That one statement says a lot. Two of the people that she trusted the most in this world, not only betrayed her, but also ended up dead. If she thought I had betrayed her, did she think I was going to end up dead too? Or did she just never trust me in the first place, because she was afraid that it would mean I would just let her down, as I did anyway.

"I thought you weren't sure what to say."

"I guess I had a long time to think about things."

Her time in Somalia. My guilt comes rushing back. She should not have had that long to think about it. I should have known she was alive, and I should have found her a lot sooner than I did.

"I'm sorry Ziva." I am so sorry.

"No," she says instantly. "It is I who am sorry."

She steps really close to me now, and looks up at me with her tell-all eyes. There is just so much unspoken still between us, and I'm not sure what to say now.

She puts her hand up on my face, and I freeze. I am afraid of moving, afraid of scaring her away, but I am so thankful for the contact. It means she's really here. She looks up through her eyelashes and for a minute I think she's going to kiss me, but she opts to kiss my cheek. It is so tender, and it's not rushed. It is an apology in itself, and I know in that moment, that I completely forgive her for every ounce of doubt she ever had in me. I can't meet her eyes, but I can't help but wish this contact would never end. When it does though, I am ready to put the past few months behind us and start over right this minute.

"Your instincts were right. You were a cop, and I should never have faulted you for thinking that…"

I didn't let her finish. My head was finally clear from all of the tension that I could think straight, and her words just might have helped me solve the case. I grab her all of a sudden, not caring about boundaries at the moment. She just touched me so tenderly, so I think I can get away with touching her a little bit too. She seemed a bit startled though, as I grabbed so sudden. "I'm a cop. I think like a cop." I put my hand up on her face, wanting to give her a kiss of my own, but knowing I had to jump on this lead. "Genius," I tell her, and I race out the door, giving her the space she probably needs after that moment.

My idea pans out, and I am one happy person by the end of the day. Not only did we solve the case, but it was thanks to Ziva that we did. It felt like the old team was back on track. I called up Ziva to thank her and tell her about the case. She actually answered and we had a full conversation, though we both made an attempt to keep it light.

I sure hope she passes her psych evaluations soon!

The next morning when I arrived at work, walking in with McGee, he figured it out before we saw her. She was back! She came walking back to her desk, with a nice big plant in her hands, and as I took my seat, pretending like it was no big deal, I couldn't help but think that the plant was a symbol of life. Of Ziva being alive.

All was good in my world again.

_THE END_

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_Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to post this final chapter. I had most of it written, but there were just a few things that needed tweaking and it was hard to do while having writer's block! Enjoy! Please let me know what you think!_


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